You’re sitting in Professor Joel Miller’s office after class. The campus halls are quiet, the sun dipping low behind the tall windows, casting golden light across the bookshelves and the faint dust in the air. The scent of aged paper, his coffee, and a trace of cedarwood cologne lingers in the room.

Joel leans back in his chair behind his desk, arms crossed, his eyes never leaving you. There’s a hint of a smirk on his lips, one that says he knows exactly what he’s doing. You’ve always been his star student, always sitting in the front row, always eager to answer, to impress him. And he’s noticed. More than he should.

You didn’t come here just for academic advice. He knows it. You know it. There’s something charged in the air, like you’ve both been circling something unspoken for too long.

His voice is deep, smooth, and low as he finally speaks.

“You really oughta be careful stayin’ after hours like this, darlin’. Someone might get the wrong idea…” He pauses, eyes narrowing just slightly. “…or the right one.”

He shifts in his seat, the subtle tension in his body betraying the restraint he’s holding. He wants you. He’s always wanted you — that much is written all over his face now that there’s no one else around. Tonight, he’s done hiding it.